


Dear Rae

by amanda_jolene



Category: My Mad Fat Diary
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Season 1
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-18
Updated: 2014-07-18
Packaged: 2018-02-09 10:01:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,037
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1978656
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amanda_jolene/pseuds/amanda_jolene
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What if Finn had written Rae a love letter?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dear Rae

He doesn’t think about what he’s doing when he picks up the pen. His knuckles are sore from punching that twat and his pulse is still throbbing in his neck (he thinks it’s adrenaline but it might be the look she gave him after the whole fiasco was over) and he needs a distraction. 

_Dear Rae_

What the fuck. He stares at the words and wonders where they appeared from. He picks up the paper, turns it over, glances around the room, flips the paper back over. No, that’s his handwriting and the pen is still in his hand. 

_I-_

**You what?** he mocks himself. **What were you going to say there, boy? That you like her stupid hair and her stupid face and her stupid band t-shirts? That you like the way she swears and hangs out and that she doesn’t take your shit (and you know you’re full of it)? That you notice when her smile doesn’t reach her eyes and you want to be in her space and you never want her to look at Archie again because he’s an absolute twat and doesn’t deserve her? Is that what you’re going to put?**

He blinks down at the paper because suddenly there’s a full page of words and he can’t imagine any of them belong to him (but they do because it was everything he just mocked himself with). He’ll have to go downstairs and drink two glasses of water and shake his head a bit. When his father asks him if he’s alright, Finn’s eyes grow and he mouths “I don’t know.” He heads back to his room and scribbles the date at the top before storing the letter in the bottom if his underwear drawer. He’s obviously gone a bit mental and he just needs to make the mix tape for tomorrow’s trip and go the fuck to sleep. 

When he gets home from the concert, it’s nearly 3 in the morning and he pulls the mixtape that no one heard because Rae bailed on him out of his pocket, and he’ll put it in his underwear drawer with the letter. He’s tired and mental and takes the page out, tries to write her about how great the concert was but ends up stupidly telling her how he wished she’d have been there so he could have held her hand during Champagne Supernova even though it’s too mainstream for him to properly like it. He stares in horror at his words, dates it and sticks it back in the drawer. When he realizes he has a love mix tape and a love letter for her, he’ll lay down on his floor and try to breathe correctly for a good hour. 

He gets his own love letter in the mail. It’s pink and smells of perfume and the words are bland and boring and do nothing to stir his heart. But he pockets it and shows it to the gang. When Rae announces that sending love letters is stupid, he looks hard at her and tries to smile, to joke about it too but the corners of his mouth are cemented in place. She’s right, love letters are stupid. 

When he gets home that night, he takes the letter out and wads it up, puts it in the trash. If she didn’t want a love letter, fine. He didn’t want to give her one anyway. He turns on The Smiths and stares out the window. At the end of ‘Reel Around The Fountain’, Finn gets out of bed, smoothes the crumpled paper and writes “What’s so wrong with a love letter?” before sticking it back in his drawer.

_I think you hate me,_ he writes. All I want is to hug you and all I get is a hand on my chest, a stern no. What have I done so wrong? He crosses it out. _I don’t want to be your friend anyway._ Lies, another cross out. _Just…_

He can’t finish it and it’s back in his drawer. 

The morning after the sexy party, he adds 3 pages to the love letter. He never reads over it because he’ll die of embarrassment if he does. For a boy so terrible with words, he can’t keep his mouth shut on paper. 

The hardest part to write was after the rave. He threw the letter away. Picked it back up. Threw it away in the downstairs trash and went to bed. The next morning he goes to get it and his dad has taken the trash to the curb. He panics (and knows he looks like a nutter standing outside at 6 am in his boxers, digging through the trash) but he finds the letter and smoothes it out on his desk. 

_I’m sorry I kissed Chloe. Did you see? I’m sorry, Rae. I’m sorry._ He taps his pencil on the desk before he starts writing in the margins and between paragraphs and in all the little spaces he finds _Don’t kiss Archie. Don’t kiss Archie. Don’t kiss Archie._

There’s a page for every date they go on, drunk ramblings of a dream and a doodle of him stabbing some guy through the heart that hit on Rae at the pub (he erases that later). His bags are packed, ready for Uni and Rae is crying. He can’t console her because it will be a year of weekend and holiday visits and the stupid girl has it in her head that he’s going to meet someone else (as if Finn Nelson even saw other girls now). He swallows his pride and hands over the letter that’s now 83 pages long and kisses her good-bye. 

It takes her a day to read it. Some of it’s because she’s crying but a lot of it has to do with trying to see the parts he crossed out, trying to see through the creases and tears and tea stains, trying to make sense of the drunken tilt of his pen (she swears there’s a poorly erased doodle of some bloke bleeding from his chest). At the end, the day’s date was written and in his neatest handwriting he’s written, _I love you. Get it, now? Love always, Finn._


End file.
